Geniusly Insane
by Werewolf of Fire
Summary: He's insanely brilliant, melodramatic and talks to much, but Arisada wouldn't have him any other way. [yaoi]


**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. In other words, all the original characters and the original series plot belong to Mikiyo Tsuda, and I make no money off this.

_Warning: _OOCness (I tried!), shounen ai, overall weirdness… Yeah. All spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot some mention them and I will fix them.

* * *

**Geniusly Insane**

The tapping of his shoes were the only things piercing his ears as he strolled towards the crafts classroom after a more than eventful School Council meeting. It seemed as though Mikoto's girlfriend really was going to be visiting and arrangements had needed to be made lest he really try to get out of all of his princess duties! Now it was time to check on the school festival's princess costumes, or (to be more specific) make sure their eccentric creator wasn't going overboard with the frills.

As unusual as it sounded, the crafts room was usually the pinnacle of classroom cleanliness with its sparkling floors, spotless walls and its everything-in-its-place type packing. The manikins that usually stood in the corner mustn't have been used in the slightest; they never seemed to change their position or places at all! However, that afternoon there were various articles of black, white, red and grey material scattered across the tables like salt over chips. Woven amongst the fabric were little bits and bobs ranging from pins, thumb-protectors, scissors and – er – whatever those funny pick looking things with the small bits of string were called. Arisada hadn't ever thought he'd need to memorise a fashion designer's tool kit and hadn't really worried about learning each implement's name.

Arisada leant the front of his right shoulder against the doorway, gently clasping at the white doorframe as he watched with something akin to amusement lodged into his attractive features as his boyfriend puttered about the crafts room, off in his own little world filled with lace, frills, velvet and tinkling buttons. He couldn't help but smile at Natashou's almost adorable expression of determination as he fought with a stubborn bow that just wouldn't sew on straight, on Mikoto's newest princess dress. Ah, it was perfect for the fiery red head; a stubborn dress for an equally obstinate wearer! His Natashou really was a genius at what he did! He'd even perfected the insane babbling and fiery passion that most intellects bore when their desired hobbies were being discussed, or the inane chatter to himself whilst he slaved away.

Natashou's ardour was quite admirable. Arisada had realised that a long time ago, when they were both first years, though he hadn't really appreciated it for what it was until a bit later in their long history. The designer hadn't been so loud when he'd first started at the school; he'd been rather introverted in the way he'd shyly sidle up to Arisada during class or during lunch and would show off his (rather messily and badly drawn) designs to him with a quick comment on this and that about the dress and how it would look on his favourite Princess, and then blush with pride when Arisada responded to his rambling with a polite "It's beautiful" and a breath-taking smile. It had been easy to lie to him; he seemed completely wowed by his physical appearance that he hadn't really cared if the response was sincere or not. And Arisada had thought it best to not break his hopeful heart.

Of course, back then, Natashou had been nothing but a fashion fanatic. He'd had no skill with a needle and thread (it has something to do with his father thinking it wasn't 'proper', so he'd 'never been able to practice'), his drawings left a lot to the imagination (Arisada recalled wondering if something was a bow or a ball of ribbon on more than one occasion), and he recalled doubting the other man's capabilities in the fashion industry a lot. He'd felt quite a bit of sympathy for the pathetic nutcase.

But even after their first year, when Arisada suddenly became a normal student, Natashou kept on showing him his designs. It was like having a constant fan that never ceased to pop up at the right time; usually when he was feeling down because of something or another. His parents had divorced that year and whilst being a princess he hadn't really made many friends. The other princess had been the closest thing to a friend he'd had (and he'd left after his parents had been told of his activities). Immediately he'd thought that Natashou was a stalker, but with him make a complete idiot of himself had always made him feel better, because really, what prideful man wanted anything to do with sewing (not that he could talk; he _had _been dressed in them for a year).

That year he'd noticed that the figures wearing the brunette's masterpieces became far more distinguishable and half way through their second year, Arisada remembered realising that Natashou's clothes were actually for humans and that the clothes really were quite beautiful. Sometimes they were a mess, but things could be imagined to be what he told them to be (despite their long time argument that Natashou's bows weren't bows, but knots).

The President ran a slender hand through his caramel coloured hair as he observed and appreciated Natashou's cheer as he finished adding the buttons to Mikoto's dress with a cry of glee. He then hastily set himself to the task of sewing a small embroidered flower on each of the cuffs of each dress' sleeves, his eyebrows furrowed as he picked up one of those pick things and – oh, so they were used for putting threading needles.

It was now that he could see the improvement in Natashou's works. Now that he drew like the most brilliant of artists (thanks to five years of art classes and his stubbornness to improve) and sewed as though he were one of the skilled craftsmen of old England. Now he could actually draw clearly distinguishable bows, which had been the first thing Arisada had noted at the beginning of that year, once they'd returned from break.

Arisada looked on with worry as his lover suddenly yelped, pouted and drew his thumb to his lips, a curse slipping out before his thumb sealed his mouth shut. The Student Body President sighed quietly; it was only a pin-prick. He'd thought it was something huge. Arisada almost laughed at his own foolishness; what serious injury was likely to happen to a sewing fanatic like his Natashou?

"Arisada?" Came a surprised call, disrupting the President's thoughts like a firm shake.

Apparently the Student Body President hadn't been quiet enough, he noted whilst he stepped into the room, a brilliant smile on his face as Natashou stared at him with wide, curiosity filled, emerald green eyes, his thumb still stuck childishly in his mouth. He looked absolutely adorable, "I was watching." He said as he stepped carefully around the carefully stacked fabric and sat down in a seat beside Natashou. He gently pulled the man's thumb from his mouth and inspected it, "You're not hurt are you?" He asked, his voice laced with concern that was somewhat earnest.

"No! I'm fine! No mere pin can stop me, Arisada!" Natashou exclaimed far too loudly as he pushed his glasses up his elegant nose with his opposite hand with a blush as Arisada placed a tender kiss to the still bleeding limb. He gained a small red spot on his lips for his efforts, which were hastily wiped away with a swift swipe of his tongue. The blush that had once again found Natashou's cheeks was worth the sharp tang of blood that he gained from his actions, "Have I shown you my latest designs?" He suddenly asked.

The President shook his head, and smiled wholesomely as Natashou shot up and out of his seat, holding up the red and white dress he'd been working on in front of him proudly, "I was going for a more traditional English edge to a maid type outfit, whilst keeping the dress simple and making it elegant," He swiftly had the cuff he'd been working on held up so Arisada could inspect it, "Which is why it is absolutely essential that the play be Alice in Wonderland (You better not change your mind, Arisada! I gave my sweat, blood and tears for these costumes)! Our adorable Mikoto is a fair bit shorter than our other Princesses – have you noticed?" Arisada nodded idly as Natashou continued as though he hadn't asked a question at all, "So I have made it so he will be receiving a pair of shoes with a slightly – one centimetre! - higher heel. He'll look absolutely beautiful!" Arisada's mouth opened, so that he could comment on the man's dresses, but was cut off abruptly before he could release a puff of air, "Little details like so are a tad complicated but add a sense of style!" The sleeve of the dress was held up with care so that Arisada could examine a small pink, embroidered rose, "Much like my other masterpieces, these were designed with the wearer's comfort in mind! Most of the items that go with this dress are made with the same cotton the blouse and skirt are,_ but_ – as you can see – I have added lace to give our Princesses a cute spin!"

Quickly Arisada rose, much like lightning plummeted towards the ground, so that he could place a thin finger against Natashou's still moving lips. Despite his love for hearing his Natashou gabble about his favourite things, it did become annoying, especially when what he could translate got swamped by the mass of information thrown at him that he couldn't. Arisada could feel Natashou's hands against his stomach as he stared down at him, still clutching at his artwork. Arisada smiled kindly, "I'm sure your designs are brilliant, Natashou, but I don't understand a word of what you're saying."

The stunned expression that suddenly appeared on Natashou's face made Arisada chuckle; his darling seemed to think him crazy for not knowing what the most basic of sewing terms were and each admittance from him seemed to hail the same reaction no matter how many times Arisada told him. Arisada gently tugged the dress from Natashou's hands, amused when he found that the other man was watching as though an eagle protecting its eggs, as he gently lay the dress over the table again, "I'm sure the Princesses will appreciate your hard work."

"I hope so! But alas, many don't understand the amount of creativity and effort I place into my work." Natashou looked a bit put out with his confession as his emerald eyes fell so they were focussed on the ground, his hands folded across his broad chest.

Arisada smiled pleasantly and wrapped his arms around the taller man, before he blew insistently on the man's chestnut coloured bangs and pressed a tender kiss to Natashou's smooth chin, "I appreciate all your work. Will that do?" The bright smile he was awarded told him all was forgiven – though it was for nigh when Natashou realised that he indeed had changed the play's theme and that most of his work would go wasted for the festival.

It was hard for Arisada to imagine Natashou's habit of being overly happy over the most simple or strangest of things, but he remembered when he had. As Natashou enveloped him in a tight hug and pressed a glee filled kiss to his right cheek, he couldn't help but recall that the man's hyper activeness (that had seemed to magically appear during their fourth year for reasons Arisada couldn't comprehend; it had something to do with acceptance and winning a prize and a girl, but that was all he'd been able to understand during Natashou's high speed babbling) used to annoy him badly. How could someone be so happy all the time? How could someone be so passionate about something they could chatter about it for hours on end, non-stop? Arisada hadn't understood.

That was until he'd gained a hobby of his own and now it was slightly easier to understand the entire process of jumping upon a topic with much gusto. He'd decided to join the student council whilst he was in second year; however, it wasn't until fifth that he started to truly appreciate the job. He'd found that tormenting the other students was extremely fun and exciting and invigorating because of the power he'd held over the other students. In a way, his cruel and justified activities had become a hobby of his own and much like Natashou, he couldn't keep himself away from the subject for long.

There first kiss for that afternoon was brought on by a belated, "Hello, how are you?" from Natashou, as he seemed to suddenly realise that he hadn't greeted Arisada with it. With Natashou pressed against him, and his adorable blushing cheeks a few centimetres away, Arisada couldn't help but quell the urge to press his own full lips to Natashou's too thin ones, whilst standing on the tips of his leather clad toes. It took little urging on his part to get Natashou to bend down and make it easier on him – always so clueless to others' needs, he was - as the man's needle tormented hands found his hair and lower back. Sometimes, Arisada loathed their height difference (half a head in length); he always had to stretch in less than comfortable ways when they were standing as they were, in order to do the same.

"I'm fine, the student council meeting finished surprisingly early. I believe we've come up with a play that everyone will enjoy." He stated as he found a dreamy smile stretching his lips across his face, "I said I'd check on your progress."

"I'll definitely be done on time! My slaves have been working as diligently as I! These will be our best works to date!" Again, Natashou's eyes lit up with a love and passion unlike anything Arisada had seen in anyone else's. It almost made him jealous, to find it present when they were discussing fabric, buttons and zippers, whilst it seemed to wilt the tiniest bit when they were speaking of each other.

Arisada chuckled, all the while burying his nose in Natashou's rumpled, white, collared shirt, right above the man's eagerly pumping heart, "You shouldn't call them slaves, Natashou; it's not polite."

With an innocent expression that included a near pout and wide eyes appeared on the man's face, as he answered in a tone to suit it, "But I am the genius that they work for and they aren't paid." There was a small pause and Arisada felt a hand travelling up and down his back absently, like a mouse unable to decide whether it wanted to go outside or stay away from the weather, "You work your slaves like convicts as well. I can't see a difference."

"Ah, you've caught me!" Arisada exclaimed with a mock expression of utter despair, "But it still isn't polite. I simply call them my _fellow councillors._" His tone held a flighty amusement, yet even Arisada knew that Natashou wasn't so strange that he wasn't able to hear the almost smug thread running through it. They both chuckled, "If you don't watch yourself, Natashou, you will cause yourself serious harm."

"My slaves say the same thing!" The man exclaimed with an accusing glare and his arms tightened around Arisada like a vice around wood, "Have you been talking to them?"

"Not much." Arisada confessed as the other, taller brunette peered down at him, his emerald eyes narrowed with suspicion. Ah, his darling was adorable; Arisada wondered how anyone could resist the man's honesty.

Natashou's expression suddenly crumbled into a pout and a baby pink blush appeared on his cheeks, "You're laughing at me!" He said petulantly as his arms flew up into the air and he waved them as though flags during the Soccer World Cup, "I knew it! You're all conspiring against me!"

Arisada couldn't help but watch with wide eyes as the excitable man quickly dropped himself heavily into his usual seat and tenderly pulled Mikoto's dress to him. The President winced as Natashou cut several lengths of thread with a brutal _clip _of his scissors and – whilst hunched over his work – began to sew. Arisada blinked with confusion. Was Natashou having one of his spontaneous tantrums again? They usually happened when Arisada wanted to change things or when Natashou's imagination wasn't working with the student council. Arisada scowled, "Natashou, we don't want you to get hurt." He clipped snippily. He hadn't walked all the way to the crafts room so then he could be snubbed because Natashou had decided to be hormonal.

"You all think I'm crazy." He practically sobbed as he began to sew a white ribbon around the dress' collar, "You all don't understand."

Something must have been terribly wrong, Arisada realised. Usually the man sulked about lacking inspiration or because he was unable to use the material he yearned to, but when he did he usually whined about the cruelty of fate, the world and the school's budget. And those complaints never broached the subject of him and his habits (mostly he just cursed whoever first came to his mind for thwarting him).

Arisada's cobalt gaze softened as he slid himself into a plain, plastic and dull metal seat beside the chestnut haired man. He'd never been good at comforting people; One didn't need to be when they had underlings to do that for them. But as he watched Natashou pathetically sew in the most discombobulating fashion, as though he were a first year student again, Arisada's body acted of its own accord.

He shifted his seat so that they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, with the President's left side pressed against Natashou's right, then he disguised an awkward pat on the back with a one armed hug. He sighed as he rested his head on the taller man's strong shoulder and was able to feel the muscles stretch and bunch as he continued to stitch. They were both hunched over now, as though they were both suffering from horrendous stomach cramps and were seeking comfort in each other. It took a moment, but Natashou slowly stopped sewing, "Arisada, I can't work with you leaning on me like you are." He said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, in far quieter voice than he usually would have spoken.

The President smiled disarmingly as they straightened, his arms still curled around Natashou's waist as the man's eyes flickered between the costume and Arisada's pale, beautiful face, "I don't want you to work. I'm sure this is the first proper conversation you've had today. Am I right?"

Natashou snorted and folded his arms tetchily, careful of the needled tucked professionally between his ring and index finger whilst the frilly costume fell to lay motionlessly on his knees, "No! I participate in plenty of conversations!"

"Ones that don't focus on your masterpieces or the materials you're using?" Arisada asked in return, a hazel brow rising in question.

"Well…" Natashou begun snippily, before his tone plummeted into one of defeated acknowledgement, "Not really." He smiled weakly, "But I did give a transfer student directions to the nearest bathroom."

Arisada nodded and patted the hand tucked under the arm closest to him, "That was kind of you." His right hand wiggled under the man's arm and linked his fingers with Natashou's slightly thicker ones, "What's wrong?" He asked softly.

There was a very pregnant pause between his question and Natashou's answer. One that caused Arisada to almost lift his hand and press it to the designer's forehead with a wave of concern; Natashou had _never _been silent for so long! Soon a minute ticked by and Natashou sighed, his eyes closed as he dramatically stated, "My family from the States are visiting soon. I'm to take a week off."

"Oh?" The thought didn't sound too fantastic, but it didn't seem so terrible either. Perhaps Arisada had forgotten some horrific detail that Natashou had shared with him during one of their more intimate moments snuggled up together, under a sheet and a gleefully blazing sun as they watched Arisada's handiwork unfold with sparks, bangs and pops; Mikoto just made it far too easy to annoy him and it was always so, so amusing to watch him attempt to escape the clutches of his many and all male fans. The Student Body President racked his brain hard, attempting to remember _something _that could turn something so boring as spending time with the family into a depressing event that made even his eccentric Natashou deflate as though popped with one of the needles he used so often.

Natashou continued his tale, whilst Arisada nodded as though he understood what the problem was, "Father doesn't want me to cause a scene, so I'm to 'leave my frivolities behind'! Mother agrees. My cousin's coming and she doesn't wish to be bothered with questions on my 'sanity and lifestyle'."

Arisada's brain clicked all the puzzle pieces into their places with a small widening of his eyes that went unnoticed as Natashou continued to stare at the ground. His darling was upset because his parents were mindless monsters that had held no regard for their son's feelings! Such treachery they wrought on such a mostly pure and not so innocent mind! They ought to be ashamed!

Despite the self righteous speech playing itself as though recorded and set to the highest volume in his head, Arisada's conclusion wasn't painted upon his face. He managed to look apologetic and snuggled himself up closer to the larger man. The President sighed and nuzzled his face into Natashou's thin neck as they shifted so they were facing each other, "It's alright." Arisada said softly, with a loving caress to Natashou's smooth cheek, "I'm sure you could clear everything up with your family quickly." He pressed a quick kiss to the soft skin in front of Natashou's left ear. "You needn't worry, your parents really do care and that is why they want you to appear as they think will make you happy before your visiting relatives."

Natashou blinked at him vaguely, as though Arisada had something stuck between his immaculately kept, white teeth. He blinked up at the man in return, his question tangible, "What is it? Is a hair out of place?" He joked with a kind smile.

Natashou gave off a small smile also and sat back so he could stare at him easier, "I know that my parents care." He stated simply, with a dumbfounded couple of blinks, "Whatever made you think such a thought had upset me?"

"You said that you - Ah – Oh, never mind!" Arisada brushed the topic away as his fan seemed to materialise into his hand and he hid his face. This was one habit he was thankful for developing; his carrying and flashing off a plain, cream coloured fan allowed attention to be drawn away from him and the designer's keen stare was making him nervous. Natashou let a few chuckles escape his lips, causing Arisada to glare, "Well, what's so bad about this visit then?" He demanded.

Again, the man's hands were thrown into the air, "They're banning my sketch book from the house, not only my materials! I must go _one week _without exercising my creativity! My inspiration, my artistic talent will be wasted!"

He blinked once, then twice and then again for good measure, before Arisada burst into a fit of enchanting laughter that he attempted to muffle with his fan. His face flushed pleasantly, as though a painter had decided that elegant shades of baby pink were needed across the canvases that were Arisada's cheeks as he smiled brilliantly and stared up at Natashou. Arisada's smile was overflowing with tenderness; yes, his Natashou had bloomed into an insane and utterly brilliant fashion designer. And despite tantrums, despite his self centred ways, he couldn't help but love him for his unique qualities and the fiery passion that always seemed to light up his being. Especially when he was being annoying with his mutterings and ponderings out loud about the bits and bobs about fashion.

He shifted himself into Natashou's lap, pleased with the stuttered questions that swept past Natashou's lips before he sealed his own over them. His darling Natashou was too adorable. He pulled away briefly so as to throw the dress onto the messy table as though it were nothing more than a raggedy, old, rag doll (whilst Natashou screeched for him to 'be gentle' as it was 'still in progress' and 'very fragile').

Arisada smiled saucily whilst ignoring him, a smile he'd picked up during his year as a princess, "I do believe I owe you an apology." He stated when the designer halted his rambling so he could breathe. The President wrapped his slender arms around the taller man's neck; he knew how to cheer Natashou up and gain something from it in return, "How ever should I make it up to you?" He felt and heard Natashou's following gulp as he pressed his full lips to the man's Adam's apple wantonly.

Natashou smiled and blushed as crimson as the fabric that made Mikoto's dress, "Arisada, if you wish to have your devious way with me, can we at least leave the crafts room? My masterpieces! I can't have them wrecked!" The end of his sentence flew off into a yelp as he was insistently tugged off in the direction of the change rooms, the President's steps long and confident whilst Natashou stumbled over his feet.

He couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed that when he was practically serving himself to Natashou on a silver platter, complete with wine, freshly picked and backed to perfect vegetables and a delicious honey sauce, all the man could think about was the state of his garments. Oh, but Arisada knew one way to get clothes off Natashou's mind (and the rest of him as well), and he was sure Natashou wouldn't object, as long as his _precious _costumes weren't endangered. And he really did need to apologise for doubting the man's parents.

At least, he'd attempt to complete the aforementioned tasks as soon as he worked out how Natashou had managed to press him to the cold wall of the change rooms and throw his shirt to the floor, a breath barely between each action. Perhaps his lover's obsession was a good thing? Arisada wondered as he gasped because of the tingling sensation that felt like needles of pleasure dancing across his skin as Natashou's callused hands slid down his chest, then his stomach and latched onto his pants; Natashou was exceptionally talented at taking clothes _off_.

**Woffy: **… I have a third favourite pairing from this series and I can't help but squee at them both! Natashou's so adorable with his passionate hyper activeness, and when paired with Arisada's calm, unfathomable personage I can't help but fangirl. The pairing's so perfect in my eyes.

With that said, I have made up a lot of this. I've only read 4 volumes of the manga, so what is revealed about both of them in the anime or wherever that isn't in them, I won't know.

The ending will most likely be changed because I don't like it.

Now, enough of my babble, review please. Tell this authoress what you think, even if you think me crazy and stupid, I'd like to read a comment or two.


End file.
